“Why are you asking me? Why not ask the others?”
“Because Aiden is shagging Elsa — not that he shares wisdom — and Xander is at rehab, so you’re all I’ve got.” I pause, grinning. “Besides, you’re the smartest.”
“Nice save.”
“What am I if not a good sport? Isn’t that right, Captain?”
He flips a page, momentarily ignoring me. I tagged along with him and we’re now at his house, or rather his stepfather’s house, Sebastian Queens. The future prime minister of the United Kingdom and one of Dad’s allies. He likes to keep everyone who matters near – like Teal’s foster father, Ethan Steel.
Cole’s room is impersonal with a bed and a desk and nearly nothing memorable. He does an impressive job of keeping it boring and filled with books.
Unlike me, Xander, or even Aiden, Cole doesn’t like having people over.
Told you, he’s kind on the outside, but a dick on the inside.
“If I answer your question,” he says, “are you going to leave?”
“Depends on whether or not you’ll bluff me.” I need to get that out there because the fucker has a tendency of telling you what you want to hear just so you’ll disappear, kind of like how I throw out smiles to maintain peace.
Still sitting on his bed, he leans on a fist but doesn’t release the book. “Give me details.”
Fuck yes.
I drag his desk chair over, flip it around, and sit down so my arms are on the top. “So here’s the thing: my friend was about to get a blowjob, and this girl interrupts me — I mean him, not me. As you know, I have no problem getting sex. He’s a loser.”
“What other friends do you have aside from us?”
“Just someone. Also, I have Lars.”
“Lars is thirty years older than you. Are you sure you want to consider him a friend?”
“I do, and you’re so fucked, Captain. I’m telling Lars, and he’s a snob who holds grudges and writes about them in his little black book, so no tea for you, and he won’t lend you novels from Father’s library.”
“Then maybe I shouldn’t be helping with your…I mean, your friend’s problem.”
“I’m kidding, Captain. Just kidding.” I give him my best smile. “So where were we? Right, my friend and the girl who cockblocked him.”
His expression doesn’t change. “Did your loser friend let her cockblock him?”
“Why are we calling him a loser?”
“You did — I’m just playing along.” His lips twitch in a smirk. “He’s your friend, after all, right?”
Dick.
“Yeah, he let her.”
“Did he at least use her mouth instead?”
“No.” And not because I didn’t want to; it was because she ran. Why the fuck did I let her run?
“We should call your friend a pussy instead of a loser.”
I feign a grin. “Is that all the advice you have?”
“She was probably jealous.”
“Right? I knew it.”
“Or she’s playing a game.”
Damn. “How do you know which is which?”
“That’s the question all philosophers ask.”
“And the answer?”
“There’s no answer, Ronan. You have to live with the fact that you won’t understand how women’s brains work.”
“So how should he react?”
He raises an eyebrow. “By not being a pussy. If you get a chance, seize it. I mean, your loser friend should seize it.”
I grab a pen from the table behind me and throw it at him to wash away his smirk, but he catches it above his head. His smirk turns into a full-blown grin.
“My information helped after all.” He twirls the pen between his index and middle finger. “Don’t you think you owe me?”
It’s my turn to smirk. “Don’t you think you owe me more? Imagine if I didn’t tell you about how she acted in front of your secret admirer.”
“Next time, when you tell me something, don’t do it when Aiden is around.”
“Why? You think he’ll change his mind?”
“Like fuck he would.”
There’s a knock on the door before it opens and Silver peeks inside. She’s different out of our school uniform. At home, she’s in a pink mini-dress that moulds to her curves and puts emphasis on her tits that Xan and I have been tricking her into showing us since we pre-pubescent.
Girls like Silver used to be my type: blonde, put together, hot as sin, and from my social standing.
Now, it seems no one is my type.
Correction — Ron Astor the Second thinks only one is his type, and there’s nothing I can do to change his mind.
“Dinner is ready.” She barely makes eye contact with Cole before focusing back on me. “Hey, Ronan. Join us.”
Cole’s face remains the usual — bored, like he’ll commit suicide because of how dull the world is — but he stops twirling the pen.
“Ronan was just leaving,” he says.
“Blasphemy. I wouldn’t miss your mum’s cooking for the world.” She’s a bestselling author and yet still finds time to cook the best meals. Silver’s mum is hotter, but Cole’s mum is homier, softer and Mum’s friend. If I were Silver’s father, I would’ve had both. Just saying.
I jump up and wrap an arm around Silver’s shoulder. “Is it only me, or do you look so hot even in house clothes?”
She grins and flips her golden hair. “What can I say? It’s my default.”
I steal a glance at Cole and he mouths, “Leave.”
I pretend I didn’t see him as I walk with his stepsister down the hall.
He catches up to us and whispers so only I can hear. “Leave before I break that arm.”
“Silver, did you hear someone talking?”
“I don’t think so.” She smirks, and I smirk back.
I’m starting to feel how Aiden did all those years. This sense of power over Cole is euphoric.
My phone vibrates. It’s a text from home.
Lars: We have a situation.
After kissing Cole’s mother on the cheek and pissing her son off one last time, I leave their mansion.
I arrive at home in record time. I called Lars on the way here, but he didn’t pick up, which means he’s busy doing what-the-fuck-ever and doesn’t have time for a phone conversation.
This better not be what I think it is.
The moment I step into the house, I feel it — the change in the air, the shift in the atmosphere. Even the usual jasmine scent Mum loves so much seems to dim, swallowed by a different type of smell.
Something potent and yet unnoticeable.
Lars appears at the entrance and nods in the direction of Dad’s office. I don’t have to be told twice, and I take two steps at a time, only stopping myself from running because staff members shouldn’t see an earl’s son running.
Pretty sure they also shouldn’t help him throw parties or hide his weed stash, but semantics.
I’m near the office when it opens, and two men emerge. One is my father, and the other is his younger brother, Uncle Eduard.